Apples Today Keep Restless Elves Away
by Eyes-of-Pearl
Summary: A lazy autumn day ends with Faramir throwing a dagger at Legolas!


**Apples Today Keep Restless Elves Away**

_by: Eyes-of-Pearl_

**Rating**: K

**Synopsis**: A lazy autumn day ends with Faramir throwing a dagger at Legolas!

**Disclaimer**: Lord of the Rings belong to its respective owners.

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**Apples Today Keep Restless Elves Away**

There were moments when even the most studious man could not sit still within the confines of his study. The weather was rather humid for an autumn afternoon, so much so that even the thinnest layer of clothing felt like a second skin against the sweat-covered body. Eowyn, the Lady of Ithilien had taken her two children, Elboron and Morwyna to a nearby spring to swim. She had not been able to convince her husband, Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien to accompany her. Then again, Eowyn knew her husband well enough to know that he was rather stubborn when his mind was set.

Currently, Faramir was engaged in an intense battle of chess with Legolas of the Woodland Realm and also the Prince of this vassal. They had taken refuge in the gardens, beneath the canopy of apple trees. The chess board was spread out between the players with the discarded pieces placed in neatly drawn rows. Two heads, one glistening blonde and the other dark hazel gray, were bent forward immersed in their game. Their cloaks were discarded and laid alongside their bows and quivers.

For both governors, a matter of pride was at stake, where the victor would claim certain bragging privileges until their next game. However on this day, both the White and Black Kings laid in a deadlock, leaving the players rather frustrated at such an outcome. Nonetheless, they were satisfied for such occurrences were rare where both Princes could set aside matters of state to play chess.

Now, Faramir had resorted to stretching out his lean frame with his back against an apple tree. A book laid open on his stomach, but he was dozing with a blissful countenance on his face. Legolas, on the other hand, was restless and bored. The game had been a welcoming distraction. Now, he was pacing and counting the number of paces from one end of the garden to the other. He was alternating in Sindarin and Quenya until Faramir spoke up from his position upon the grass.

"What troubles you?"

The Elven prince paused in his steps and turned toward the prone figure against the tree. Faramir's gray green eyes were half-glazed in waiting. "Nothing," the golden archer replied.

At this, the Man sat up, turning his full attention to the Elf before him. Faramir said nothing but no words were needed. Unconsciously, the Prince of Ithilien had taken on the image of Denethor whose piercing eyes could unravel any secret buried in the deepest chasm of one's soul. Even though, it was said that one could not tolerate Elven gaze for very long, Faramir was the exception who had enough restraint after suffering strict reprimands from the former Steward.

Legolas finally succumbed to the Gondorian gaze and said, "I am bored."

At that, Faramir replied, "I had not realized that I was such poor company. Perhaps, you would prefer the attentions from one of my lady wife's chambermaid."

Legolas rolled his eyes and shuddered. Though he had enough experience with the delicate art of refusing offers from fawning maidens, he had not expected to acquire the unwavering infatuations of Lady Dartheila, one of Eowyn's chambermaid.

Upon his first visits to Ithilien, there was an unfortunate accident which resulted with Legolas being covered in mud. The Elf gave his clothes to Lady Dartheila to be washed. The maiden had taken the request as a near marriage proposal. Consequently, she not only washed and pressed the garments but also attached various loving keepsakes to the Elven Prince. Legolas' refusal fell unheeded except in fuelling her pursuits. The Elf would often lose articles of clothing only for them to be returned washed and folded with rather tempestuous declarations of love from Lady Dartheila. No, Legolas would not prefer that kind of company.

A bemused-looking Faramir said nothing as he now returned to his unfinished book. Silence fell upon them as Legolas returned to his pacing again. Faramir knew that he would gain no peace with the Elf at this state. Setting aside his book again, he implored, "What do you have in mind?"

The Elf paused in mid-stride, in thought. His gaze was directed between the bows and quivers near Faramir and the apple tree above. He rubbed his chin in thought. "You know . . ." he began.

As if hearing Legolas' thoughts, Faramir immediately interjected, "No, still your musing. There is no sense of propriety in that particular scheme and I have no wish to repeat _that_ episode."

However, Legolas' mind was set and his eyes gleamed mischievously in merriment. He certainly recalled what happened the last time he had proposed such a venture. It was decided that they would practice their archery skills, with one person dictating the target for the other to shoot at. Last time, Legolas chose a fiery-coloured leaf on one of the uppermost branches. It seemed relatively easy, if not for the robin's nest that had taken shelter next to the intended leaf. It was a daunting shot but Faramir was the best archer in Gondor. However, the wind was not in his favour for it changed the trajectory of the arrow upon its descent. With the denoted leave secured upon its tip, the arrow landed over the garden walls onto an incoming entourage from Dol Amroth.

Faramir had to execute his role as a diplomat along with some boyish Gondorian charm to conjure a believable excuse for the arrow. He then had the task to explain to both his wife, and his uncle, Prince Imrahil of the 'incident'. Afterwards, the Steward dragged the Elf into his private study and glared at him with such intensity that could have frozen an Oliphant in its tracks. However, Faramir was pointedly ignored as Legolas himself was trying desperately to suppress his grin.

In retrospect, Legolas certainly understood Faramir's current apprehensiveness. However, an Elven boredom was hard to appease. It was such times when Faramir truly felt that he was acting as the 'older' brother of this friendship, even though Legolas was in fact two millennia older. Still, Faramir knew the futility of trying to resist Legolas especially when the Man himself enjoyed these 'competitions'. He got up to retrieve his bow and arrows to the delight of the Elf who was acting more like an elfling waiting for the perfect pie to finish cooking.

Faramir glanced at the apple tree that Legolas was inspecting earlier. He took careful aim from an angle which would not result with the arrow going over the garden walls. Though, the Man secretly hoped that it would land in some peculiar fashion at a certain pompous Elven royal in his residence. In any case, the arrow soared through the air, dropping three apples onto Legolas' waiting arms.

The Elf in turn, began polishing one of the apples on his tunic. Inspecting the fruit in the sunlight, Legolas proceeded to say, "You know Faramir, it would be splendid to have this apple sliced in half."

Before the last words were out of his mouth, a silver-wrought dagger soared through the air, passing by some of Legolas' blonde tresses before cutting the apple neatly in half. One half of the fruit was still clutched by the Elf and the other landed on the grass next to the weapon. Legolas was aware that his mouth had dropped open as he stared rather stupidly at the Man who had thrown the knife.

Faramir smirked at the Elf's expression. Whoever thought that the Steward of Gondor was too scholarly to play a prank was sorely mistaken when he said, "Hmmm, it seems that the wind has fouled my shot . . . "

Before Legolas could reply, Faramir quickly retrieved his book and cloak while shouldering his bow and quiver. When Legolas finally registered the fallen pieces of hair and the halved apple, Faramir was already on his way back inside. However, Legolas with his Elven hearing could hear the Man jesting, "Next time it's my turn to pick the target, mellon-nin. Perhaps, I will ask you to aim an arrow at Lady Darthelia's chamber!"

_The End_

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Ok, this is my attempt at lotr humour, hopefully that turned out. Let me know by leaving a review, please! Until later ...


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